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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28779237">your love (is so hard to define)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikaie/pseuds/hikaie'>hikaie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Apex Legends (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arguing, Canon-Typical Violence, Clothed Sex, Drunken Kissing, Feelings Realization, Flirting, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Legend!Reader, Makeup Sex, Maybe a little OOC, Misunderstandings, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oral Sex, Other, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Secret Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:01:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,023</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28779237</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikaie/pseuds/hikaie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What have they gotten themself into? It’s not like they’re <i>dating</i>. He’s got his playboy image still lined up and ready to go at a moment’s notice. Elliott still gets numbers slid to him on bar napkins, he winks at Ajay and plays grab-ass with Octavio, and occasionally they go to his place after a long match and he looks them in the eyes while they fuck, but it doesn’t feel like fucking.</p>
<p>Perhaps it’s wishful thinking.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mirage | Elliott Witt/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>your love (is so hard to define)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sooo this was <i>technically</i> an OC/Mirage fic that I've edited for posting. That being said, it's kind of pure indulgence. Read at your own risk and please heed the tags- this was cranked out in maybe three hours flat, but I was a bit too happy with the smut to hoard it all to myself.</p>
<p>Just a little background: this story implies Reader has been a Legend basically since the beginning of the Games, alongside Wraith. There is mentioned dislike of Bangalore; Reader simply doesn't get along with her due to her being ex-IMC. With regards to the arguing tag, it gets <i>minorly</i> physical. Mostly gender-neutral for reader; word girlfriend is used like five times; reader has a vagina. (Okay, whew, I think that's all I need to preface this with. LMAO)</p>
<p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s a newbie on their squad today. It’s happened before, it’ll happen again. It’s just, well… he’s one of the chatty fanboys. He’s practically got stars in his eyes when he gets thrown in with them and Wraith, and when the woman ignores him he turns his chatterbox mouth on their unfortunate ears. They look him up and down- from his pony-tailed beard, down the expanse of his highlighter yellow body suit that’s just going to be fucking <em>screaming</em> their position out to the enemy, all the way down to the striped socks under scuffed, genuine-leather boots. And he just <em>doesn’t shut up</em>. In fact, he notices them looking and <em>winks</em> at them.</p>
<p>Okay. They can do this. Totally. Without tripping him, for sure.</p>
<p>When it turns out he can… actually kind of play, it makes it easier. And he <em>does</em> shut up when they’re under fire. Oh, and the yellow suit? Turns out, being an eyesore is what he’s all about- because when they’re pinned down in a shack outside of bunker, there’s suddenly something like eight more of him, and the enemy doesn’t seem to know where to shoot, and then he’s <em>behind</em> them.</p>
<p>He’s smiling ear to ear when they join him, but when they look, his hands are shaking on the pilfered AR he’d swiped from a deathbox. Wraith claps him on the shoulder, about as friendly an interaction the rookie should hope to get from her, and they catch his smile cool into something a little more real.</p>
<p>Winning with two Legends alone gets him some clout, but flashy plays and the last shot of the game get him camera time during the post-Game. Wraith isn’t a big talker, and neither are they, so they stand back and let him have it. The both of them certainly remember what that had been like, new on the scene and needing to make a name for themselves. After the interviews are over, they slouch off with Wraith toward the showers, away from the new guy. His pretty face is covered in dirt, and his suit is ripped, and wait, why are they still <em>looking</em> at him?</p>
<p>“Hey, you coming?” Wraith stops at the entryway to the locker rooms, looking back at them, and they wave her on. She shrugs and continues, and they clear their throat at the guy- Elliott, they think. His Legend name is kind of haughty, made them snort when he’d told the interviewer. When he looks up, it’s with that same puppy dog look, but his face is somewhat more lined with exhaustion.</p>
<p>“Good job today.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, it was nothing.” He cocks his hip and settles a gloved hand there. Something in the motion sets the little holoemitters on his arms to whirring, and he startles, slapping his wrist to turn it off before a decoy can generate, and laughing nervously. “I, uh, meant to do that. Totally.”</p>
<p>“Uh huh… Hey, uh, Mirage, was it? Word of advice. Me and Wraith are pretty chill, but try not to flirt with some of the others, yeah? You might just get that whole-” They twirl a finger in the general direction of his head. “-pretty face situation kicked in.” With that, they turn to head into the locker rooms, but not before they hear the man splutter.</p>
<p>“You think I’m pretty?!”</p>
<p>They snort and refuse to dignify <em>that</em> with a response.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mirage cuts himself out a slice of fame, and earns himself a bona fide Apex Legend status. He’s one of the fastest-growing names that they’ve has seen in their years of the Games. It’s the face, not to mention the stupid loudmouth charmer act. They start to see him plastered all over Solace; on product endorsements, in commercials, on advertisements for the Games. He gets cocky, confident- even after Anita cuts his beard ponytail off when he’d made the foolish decision to flirt with her. ‘Cause, well, regardless of the warning they had given him, he flirts with <em>everyone. </em>And they’re still included.</p>
<p>“So,” His tone alone sets them up to roll their eyes, but his hand falling around their shoulder seals the deal. They cut their eyes at him, taking in his smarmy grin and lowered voice. “When are we gonna go out babe?”</p>
<p>“Cute, Mirage.” They elbow him, and he pulls away with a groan, rubbing his ribs with a wince.</p>
<p>“I’m being serious!”</p>
<p>“As serious as you were when you asked Ajay out last week?”</p>
<p>“Oh, c’mon, that was a <em>joke</em>, you know you’re the only one for me!” He dramatically clutches his chest. They shift to their other foot, frowning at him.</p>
<p>“Better quit messin’ around, heartbreaker.” Anita quips from over his shoulder. He whirls around to look at her. “As if a vet like that would look your way.”</p>
<p>At this angle, they can see the way his ears go red. The combination of the woman’s words and Elliott’s reaction make their stomach squirm.</p>
<p>“Hey, I’m a Legend too!”</p>
<p>“Exactly.” She scoffs. “Pretty sure they’re not lookin’ for… whatever it is you’re into.”</p>
<p>He splutters at her and flips her off, which devolves into a shouting match that they quickly edge away from. The conversation <em>does</em> get them thinking, though. They’re not sure they’re looking for anything. It’s been… well. Time is still hard for them to gauge; and really, it’s been a whole lifetime since they felt anything for anyone. Wraith is really the only friend they have- they would hardly consider Anita a <em>friend</em>, in fact, they’re wondering if what she said today was less complimentary than it sounded. The two of them… <em>kind of</em> hated each other.</p>
<p>But when they think of the newest Legend… they peer at him across the open space in the middle of the dropship, still bickering with the soldier. He flicks his hair out of his eyes, rolling them at something Anita is saying, and they flush when he catches them staring. They look away and quickly cross the ship toward their room, a warm feeling sinking into their stomach. <em>Shit</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It turns into a minor problem. Nothing major, but… when they see him in a match, on an enemy team, they hesitate. When he flirts, they don’t discourage him as much. If the Legends go to the <em>Lounge</em> for drinks, he slides them freebies and they may or may not stay ‘til closing, chatting with Elliott… and his decoys. He’s actually kind of nice. He’s actually kind of a <em>dork</em>. Except…</p>
<p>Except he still flirts. Not just with them, but with, well, everyone. And it starts to wear them down, just a bit, and maybe they start throwing death glares at the fans who respond to his advances. When he laments the potential conquests that leave before he can get their number, they listen and nod sympathetically. It truly is such a shame that he keeps striking out.</p>
<p>Maybe… maybe they kiss, just once. It’s past closing, everyone else is gone, Elliott’s letting them finish their whiskey while he counts out the register, a decoy is playing cards with them… And when he dematerializes, they pout and says, “Hey, I was winning for once.”</p>
<p>He raises an eyebrow. “Doubtful.”</p>
<p>“Sure I was!”</p>
<p>“No way, sweetheart. Nobody wins cards against Elliott Witt.”</p>
<p>They lay their cards down with a huff. “So he was letting me win.”</p>
<p>“Probably.” He grins a little. “The decoys are a little soft on you.”</p>
<p>“The decoys, huh?”</p>
<p>He <em>blushes</em> and looks away from them. “Yup. Can’t get ‘em to shut up about it.” He clears his throat and rounds the bar. “Here, I’ll walk you back to your place.”</p>
<p>They turn on the bar stool, looking at his flustered expression, down to his hand held out to help their drunk ass down. When they slip from the seat, before he can step back, they lean up and into his space and plant one on him. Elliott startles, flinching back and raising his other hand to his mouth. They sink back onto their heels and rip their hand from his, stumbling over their words.</p>
<p>“Shit. Sorry. Uh. I’m going to go-”</p>
<p>“Let me just-”</p>
<p>“Thanks for the drinks, and, you know, and um. Mm.” They brush past him, suddenly feeling stone cold sober. He grabs them by the shoulder, stopping them in their tracks, really almost causing them to whirl around and deck him just on impulse, but then he’s stepping up close behind them and saying their name, saying “<em>Wait</em>.”</p>
<p>They stop. Why do they stop, so suddenly, so short? Their muscles betray them, freezing up, and then he’s touching them, pulling them around, and he’s leaning down, and they <em>kiss</em>. He’s <em>good</em> at it, lips plush against their own, not slipping them tongue but not letting it stay strictly chaste, either. They feel a little weak in the knees when he pulls back.</p>
<p>“You… surprised me.” His voice is rough, and when he stands up straight his face looks different. He doesn’t look anything like the Elliott they know. “Let me walk you home?”</p>
<p>They do.</p>
<p>So… maybe they kiss <em>more</em> than once. Maybe Elliott presses them against the wall in the backroom of the <em>Lounge </em>after hours, licking into their mouth and moaning when they bite him. Maybe he asks for help with his Kraber shot and they end up pinning him to the sand in some out-of-the-way spot on the training grounds, sucking hickeys into his neck. Maybe they run a duos match together and when they’re downed he cloaks and curls around them, and after he’s got them back up maybe he lays across them on the floor and peels down their pants and makes them cum for the first time in some dirty shack in the arena.</p>
<p>Fuck. <em>Fuck</em>. What have they gotten themself into? It’s not like they’re <em>dating</em>. He’s got his playboy image still lined up and ready to go at a moment’s notice. Nobody knows what’s going on, not even Wraith- arguably their closest mutual friend, definitely too perceptive for her own good. Elliott still gets numbers slid to him on bar napkins, he winks at Ajay and plays grab-ass with Octavio, and occasionally they go to his place after a long match and lets him kiss them senseless. Sometimes they let him lay them in his bed and slide into them, slow and careful, and look them in the eyes while they fuck, but it doesn’t feel like fucking.</p>
<p>Perhaps it’s wishful thinking.</p>
<p>“Hey, you good?” Makoa mumbles, jostling them with an elbow. They blink, not realizing they’d been zoned out- a cold stare leveled straight at Mirage across the bay, the man leaning over some rookie and smiling in that familiar smarmy way. They have a bruise on their thigh from where he’d bitten them last night, can still feel the twinge of his fast pace when they shift in their seat.</p>
<p>“Great.” They reply, shrugging and rolling their neck.</p>
<p>The klaxon blares for them to ready up, so they step up to the platform with Makoa and Pathfinder by their side. Mirage takes his place between the shorter rookie and Caustic, right across from them, and smiles in their direction. They don’t return his look, and he raises an eyebrow, questioning. He waggles them a bit, just to get a reaction out of them, and they bite their lip. He grins in triumph.</p>
<p>“Stop flirting with your girlfriend, Witt.” Caustic growls at him, and he shoots the other man a dirty look.</p>
<p>“Dude. Not my girlfriend.”</p>
<p>It pangs painfully against their chest.</p>
<p>“That is because they are too smart to say yes to your incessant advances.”</p>
<p>Mirage’s face does something complex, his mouth opening and closing, his eyes shooting to meet theirs. They square their jaw, raising it and an eyebrow in challenge.</p>
<p>“Well,” He stammers. “They keep shooting me down. A man knows when to leave well enough alone. Right?”</p>
<p>“Dunno. Why don’t you try asking me again?”</p>
<p>The timer is counting down- twenty seconds left. Their competitors- especially that damned newbie- are watching the exchange, mostly with humored expressions. Any time Mirage manages to make an ass of himself in the spotlight, it’s a fun time for all involved. Usually.</p>
<p>“I’ve got a better idea- my squad wins, we go on a date.” Elliott says it with a patented smile, throwing in a wink for good measure. They merely shrug.</p>
<p>“Fine. But if we win, you leave me alone.” They make sure the exact weight of those words hit him in the chest, watching the way his eyes widen before they turn their back on him as the platforms begin to descend.</p>
<p><em>Here we go</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He gets them.</p>
<p>It’s stupid- they should know better. They should know the difference between a fucking decoy and the real deal. But one second they’re seeing an apologetic looking face disintegrate into particles, the next they’re on the ground, his weight across their spine and his Wingman against the base of their skull. They suck in air and squirm, but he holds them down, and his voice is sunny when he murmurs in their ear, “<em>Gotcha</em>.”</p>
<p>After the Games, they avoid the other Legends, retreating to their apartment to nurse their headache. They watch the post on the holo in their living room, a bag of ice on their temple and the rest of their face smooshed into a pillow. Mirage laughs and says all the right things and adjusts his hair and they seethe, just a little bit. Stupid pretty boy. ...Stupid them for falling for his flirtations, for letting him into their bed. Worse than that, letting him into their heart.</p>
<p>No. That really wasn’t his fault, was it? They knew what he wanted, and they decided to want more from him. It wasn’t his fault at all.</p>
<p>They wake up sometime later, the TV playing recaps on the Games network now. Their head is throbbing, or- no, that’s someone at the door. They stumble off of the couch, discarding the melted icepack on the coffee table. Whoever it is has been banging incessantly the whole time. They forgo the peephole to rip open the door, snapping “WHAT?” at a <em>very</em> surprised Mirage.</p>
<p>“Uh. I mean- no, actually, what are you doing here?” They pull the door close to their side, blocking out the sight of the dim, messy living room, and attempt to flatten their mussed hair. It doesn’t help that they still have a bandage wrapped around their head.</p>
<p>He gives them a strange look. “What am I <em>doing</em> here? Are you- are you serious?” Before they can stop him, he shoves a foot between the door and the jam, and wraps his hand around the frame, filling the gap with his body. They take a step back and he works his way into their apartment, sharply shutting the door behind him.</p>
<p>“Sure, come on in.” They grumble at him, growing more and more pissed. They turn to the living room and kick a throw pillow across the floor on their way to the kitchen. He sighs from behind them, and they hear the TV get muted.</p>
<p>“What was that about today?”</p>
<p>“Not sure what you’re talking about.” They’re being incredibly petulant, but they don’t care. “You won your date, didn’t you?”</p>
<p>He grabs them and turns them around, and they shove at his chest. He huffs but takes a step back, his hands looser on their shoulders now. “Listen…” His face is all soft and open, and that’s bad because it makes them want to kiss him, even when he blew their fucking brains out <em>how</em> many hours ago? They grind their teeth, squinting to hold back the burning in their eyes.</p>
<p>“What do you want, Elliott? I’m not your girlfriend, remember? You don’t have to act like you care.”</p>
<p>“That’s not fair.” He breathes, and his fingers suddenly tighten. “<em>You’re</em> the one who’s… who… you wanted to keep it secret!”</p>
<p>“Said who?!” They push him again, finally letting the tears escape. “When did I ever fucking say that?!”</p>
<p>“You- you <em>didn’t</em> but you- fuck!” He shoves a fist against his mouth and takes a deep breath. “Fuck, you only ever come to my place, or, or in the training grounds or- it’s not like you’re showing me off or anything!” Now <em>he </em>sounds mad, and they can’t stand that, can’t stand the <em>audacity</em> he has.</p>
<p>“Oh, so you getting me off while you’re invisible and we’re in a match screams <em>“serious relationship”</em> to you?” They laugh bitterly. Their head really is throbbing now, their heartbeat pounding at every inch of their skull. “Flirting with everyone and everything is supposed to, what, reassure me?”</p>
<p>“I thought we were keeping it <em>private</em>!” He’s yelling now. They’re both yelling, and anyone who’s on the same floor is probably getting way too much info about their personal lives. “You realize I- you know- you- <em>I love you!</em>”</p>
<p>You could hear a pin drop. Everything fades into the background, all the pain and the rushing blood and the sweaty clamp of bandages around their head disappearing. “What?” They croak.</p>
<p>“How can you not know?” He murmurs, letting go of their shoulders to cup their face. “And people call <em>me</em> an idiot.”</p>
<p>“We… you…”</p>
<p>“I don’t just...” His face flares up red and he clears his throat. “You think I make love to just anyone?”</p>
<p>They make a noise in their throat, broken, and grab onto his arms. “Don’t play around with me, Elliott. You… don’t say things you don’t mean?”</p>
<p>“What’s it gonna take, huh?” His fingers brush along the edge of their bandage, his face wincing into a frown. He did this to them, after all. “I’ve been in love with you since you co-cam-cuh-p-complimented me after my first match.”</p>
<p>They suck in a breath and shake all over. “Elliott.”</p>
<p>“And then… when you kissed me… and you were drunk, I couldn’t just… I thought you just wanted… wh-wha-what everyone else wanted. And I thought I was okay with that. I just… I just wanted you.” He laughs, deprecating, and they cut off anything else he was going to say by throwing themself at him, curling their arms around him and sinking their weight into him, desperate to kiss him. He recovers quickly, clutching at them and returning the attention, curling over them and kissing them thoroughly.</p>
<p>“I love you too.” They gasp against his mouth, giving him no time to react before reeling him into another kiss. “I’m sorry.” Comes out, next, and he shakes his head, knocking their noses together.</p>
<p>“No, me, I’m sorry-”</p>
<p>They push him back onto the couch, falling across his lap with a huff. He steadies them with a hand against the small of their back and they curl their fingers into his hair. They can’t imagine separating from him, now, not with this revelation. They let go of him to slip their hands between their bodies, fumbling with his jeans. He groans into their mouth, slipping his hands down into their sweats, easily pushing them down their thighs. They struggle together for a few more moments, until their pants are dangling off one ankle and they’ve got his cock in hand, stroking him to hardness. He’s panting against their mouth, soft little half-syllables of their name and <em>Fuck, love you-</em>‘s, and then they’re easing down onto him. His breath stills in his chest while theirs leaves them on a whine. This time, when he holds their hips in place and looks deep into their eyes, they let themself believe it, squinting at him and trembling all over.</p>
<p>“Lookit you.” He slurs. “You always take me so well…” Elliott presses their hips down, holds them in place while he grinds up; they whimper and tug on his hair, scratch down his scalp. It all feels so heady, so much more real.</p>
<p>“Can’t… you can’t say stuff like that…” They settle their head in the crook of his neck, but only for a moment, forced to sit up when he starts to drag their shirt up. He’s gentle when he drags it over their chest, and when his hands come back to their body, he cups gently against the battle-worn skin of their back. They lift up and sink back down onto him at the soft intimacy of the act, his breath stuttering out beautifully.</p>
<p>One of his hands settles against their jaw, directing them to meet his eyes. They’re limpid and dark, and they jerk against him, whining softly. He curls his arms around them, turning them until he can press them into the couch, angling their legs up to curve around his back. At the permission it affords them, they press a heel into his back. He starts to slowly fuck them, eyes on theirs, lips slick and gentle on their mouth.</p>
<p>“Want… <em>ah-</em>” His next thrust rocks them up the couch, and they throw out a hand to grip the cushions on the back. “Ell…”</p>
<p>“Fuck. Yeah, say my name like that… like that, again.” He plants a hand beside their head, thrusts in harder and they cry out, <em>Elliott!</em></p>
<p>“<em>Please- ah, fuck, want you to cum inside me-”</em></p>
<p>He groans loudly, his whole body shaking, and his hips stutter between their thighs. They tighten the muscles in their legs, holding him in close and clenching around his cock. He thrusts minutely, grinding in, then yanks their knee up higher, the angle changing in such a beautiful way, his cockhead pressing right up against their cervix. They ride the fine line of pleasure and discomfort, fluttering wantonly around his dick, and he grunts and spends inside them, hot and wet and <em>perfect</em>. They go slack, breathing hard, which leaves them all the more surprised when Elliott keeps thrusting, his thumb falling to their clit.</p>
<p>His breaths are loud, oversensitive, but he presses his mouth to their cheek and groans, “C’mon, baby, sweetheart, cum on my dick, love you so much, cum-” and they break apart, splintering into a thousand pieces of glass. He jerks their clit through it, groaning his encouragement while they do exactly as he’d asked, coming spectacularly around his cock. It feels like never before, as if the simple weight of <em>knowing</em> he loves them- that they’re <em>in</em> love- makes it a thousand times better. They finally relax, softly whimpering at his continued slow swirls against their clit, until he gets the picture and stops. When they kiss, it’s slow, soft, their breaths broken and shared. He’s smiling.</p>
<p>“You get it now?” He murmurs, nosing against their jaw. “Don’t you remember what I said? You’re the only one for me.”</p>
<p>They nod, sliding a hand into his sweaty hair and petting him there gently. “Yeah. Yes.”</p>
<p>He pulls out, their combined slick sliding out and down the crease of their thigh. He leaves their mouth a moment, descending to lick up the mess he’d made of their cunt, shocking a harsh breath out of them. His eyes flick up to meet their own, his tongue lapping up his own cum leaking out of them before coming to flick over their still-sensitive clit. He ignores their twitching, their tugging of his hair, instead holding them in place and bringing them over the edge once more with his mouth. They stare down at him blearily, cum-drunk, when he sits up with wet lips and facial hair, dragging a hand across his mouth.</p>
<p>“<em>Fuck</em>.” They wheeze, dropping their head back against the armrest. He laughs, crawling back up their body to stretch out across them. They trade a few lazy kisses before they have to push him off, instead curling up side by side on the tiny couch. Although both still half dressed, sticky with sweat, their ass hanging off the cushions, it couldn’t be more perfect. They tuck their head under his chin, slowly regaining their breath with him while he drags his hands up and down their back.</p>
<p>“Am I your girlfriend now?” They ask after a while, half-asleep. Elliott laughs, clearly exasperated, and they feel his lips press to their forehead.</p>
<p>“Yeah, babe. You’re my girlfriend.”</p>
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